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| Marley's Ghost ~ John Leech, 1843 Copy of Original illustration from Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" |
Henry Vaughan (1678)
Então, roube alguns louros e algumas heras,
Em seguida, restaure os caminhos da miséria.
O verde irá te lembra das primaveras,
Embora seja o dia de sonhos e quimeras.
A Terra se mortifica, e festeja a céu aberto
Toda a selvajaria, do depravado ao perverto.
Veste-se de rosas e espalha-se por todos os lados
Sobre a neve, com seus seios quentes e corados,
E naquele mesmo vestido de sua leveza
Reprime e murcha as flores de menor nobreza.
Devemos o brilho desta data imodesta
Não à música, à fantasia, nem à festa:
Não aos móveis chiques, nem às belas imagens;
Mas à simplicidade da manjedoura na estalagem.
Sua vida aqui, assim como Seu nascimento,
Serviu apenas à pompa e ao entretenimento;
E toda a grandeza do homem moderno
É contrastada pela humildade do Eterno.
Assim, deixe suas posses e seus bens,
Para recebê-Lo com as intenções de quem
Aceita o sagrado e cumpre a vigília:
As luzes e os cantos abençoarão sua família.
Do que possuem, conquistado na ganância
Para os que precisam, alivie sua abundância.
Quem assim se esvazia, recebe dobrado;
Negar isso é tanto renúncia como pecado.
Vista-se finamente, sem luxo,
Que o Natal vai ser-lhe justo.
The True Christmas
Henry Vaughan (1678)
So stick up ivy and the bays,
And then restore the heathen ways.
Green will remind you of the spring,
Though this great day denies the thing.
And mortifies the earth and all
But your wild revels, and loose hall.
Could you wear flowers, and roses strow
Blushing upon your breasts’ warm snow,
That very dress your lightness will
Rebuke, and wither at the ill.
The brightness of this day we owe
Not unto music, masque, nor show:
Nor gallant furniture, nor plate;
But to the manger’s mean estate.
His life while here, as well as birth,
Was but a check to pomp and mirth;
And all man’s greatness you may see
Condemned by His humility.
Then leave your open house and noise,
To welcome Him with holy joys,
And the poor shepherd’s watchfulness:
Whom light and hymns from heaven did bless.
What you abound with, cast abroad
To those that want, and ease your load.
Who empties thus, will bring more in;
But riot is both loss and sin.
Dress finely what comes not in sight,
And then you keep your Christmas right.
Henry Vaughan (1678)
So stick up ivy and the bays,
And then restore the heathen ways.
Green will remind you of the spring,
Though this great day denies the thing.
And mortifies the earth and all
But your wild revels, and loose hall.
Could you wear flowers, and roses strow
Blushing upon your breasts’ warm snow,
That very dress your lightness will
Rebuke, and wither at the ill.
The brightness of this day we owe
Not unto music, masque, nor show:
Nor gallant furniture, nor plate;
But to the manger’s mean estate.
His life while here, as well as birth,
Was but a check to pomp and mirth;
And all man’s greatness you may see
Condemned by His humility.
Then leave your open house and noise,
To welcome Him with holy joys,
And the poor shepherd’s watchfulness:
Whom light and hymns from heaven did bless.
What you abound with, cast abroad
To those that want, and ease your load.
Who empties thus, will bring more in;
But riot is both loss and sin.
Dress finely what comes not in sight,
And then you keep your Christmas right.
